


My Heart Stumbles On Things I Don't Know

by alilactree



Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: Character Study, Coming Out, F/F, Gen, M/M, Stevie and Twyla deserve love and happiness and they deserve it with each other, Supportive Friendship Time!, of a sort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-07
Updated: 2019-05-07
Packaged: 2020-02-27 22:23:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,861
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18748288
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alilactree/pseuds/alilactree
Summary: It’s just because she’s been on her mind a lot, really, that Stevie notices how nice Twyla’s smile is. How her hair has flecks of copper in it where the sun catches just right. The little dimples in her cheeks as she lists salad toppings.Or: Stevie realizes some things. It's not about Twyla, except that it is.





	My Heart Stumbles On Things I Don't Know

**Author's Note:**

> _Planning to make this a series but for now it's a one shot. Just mostly exploring how and why Stevie might realize she's not straight. Also, Stevie and David's opinions on Salisbury steak do not necessarily reflect the author's own_

Alexis comes into the office near the very end of Stevie’s shift, already dressed up in what looks to Stevie like a slip but with no back that definitely cost an unfathomable amount of money. She leans over the desk and pretends to ring a bell, complete with a cheery, “Ding-ding-ding!”

“Yeah I can see you.” Really only peripheral though, as Stevie doesn’t look up from her book and doesn’t take her crossed feet off the front desk. Alexis coming in to the office can mean anything from needing extra linens to coming up with a terrifying new marketing scheme for the hotel to wanting to ask Stevie some random, seemingly abstract question that really has to do with something else; most likely Alexis’s life.

“Hmm, can you though?” She sets her chin on her hand and pouts, then grins once Stevie gives in and looks at her fully. “Come to the bar with me, Stevie. David and Patrick are in my room being, like, disgusting.”

That gets Stevie’s attention. She drops her feet and places her book face-down on the counter. “What are they doing?”

Alexis takes a breath, then leans across the counter to grasp both of Stevie’s hands in hers and then leans in even closer. She looks into Stevie’s eyes like Stevie invented oxygen or something, and then ratchets it up even further by rubbing Stevie’s knuckles and looking up her through her lowered lashes. She bats them.

Stevie snatches her hands away. “Gross.”

“Yeah,” Alexis stands back up in order to look like a not love sick human. She bats her hair away from her face. “Right.”

So after Mr. Rose comes back for the evening shift, Stevie heads down to find Alexis and isn’t surprised to see her waiting at the car. Stevie knows she’s happy for David, just like Stevie is, so happy, but also like Stevie maybe wishes she could be happy for herself, too. Or at least, not alone tonight, and since Jake is… she doesn’t know where, and frankly doesn’t care, and Alexis is doing this thing where she’s trying to be a better person and also be happy for Ted who has Heather, which has to be way harder than being happy for David since she’s in love with Ted still and everything. David told Stevie. David tells her a lot of things she’d rather not know. Stevie suppresses a shudder and hikes her bag up higher.

“So where to?” Stevie says as she approaches. “I’m kidding, there’s only one bar.”

“Hmm,” Alexis says, in a fake-laugh sort of way. She plays with her hair distractedly and looks around.

“Expecting more party-goers?”

“Oh? No? I mean yes? Twy is coming?” Alexis says, still distracted, though not by Twyla, Stevie is certain. “Anyway!” She seems to refocus, for the time being. “I hope that’s okay.”

“Sure,” Stevie says. “Why wouldn’t it be?” She and Twyla aren’t friends or anything but Stevie likes her okay. Which is surprising because Twyla is never not earnest and friendly and Stevie is— Well. Stevie should find it annoying, Twyla’s whole thing, but. She doesn’t.

“Hi you guys!” Twyla pulls up, true to form with a genuine smile stretching her face. “This is gonna be so fun! So fun.”

It is not particularly fun, but there’s booze and… booze and it beats sitting at home alone, she supposes. Though at least there the floor isn’t sticky and cigarette smoke doesn’t burn her eyes and she doesn’t have to get hit on by someone her grandfather’s age and doesn’t have to listen to Alexis talk about how very much she is not into Ted anymore, no way, not even a little. So, there’s that. Stevie drains her drink and signals the bartender for another.

“And like, he can kiss whoever he wants because I— Okay— And it’s like— Hmm, you know? Hmm-hmm! And I don’t— I’m happy? For him? And me. I’m happy _for me_ which is the whole, like— Point? And I can kiss as many girls as I want, too. So. Yeah.”

“Totally.”

Stevie has been sort-of listening, perched between Alexis and Twyla on a lumpy barstool while Alexis says a lot without saying much of anything and Twyla actually doesn’t say much of anything. She wonders if Twyla’s cheerful nodding along and _totallys_ are the same as Stevie’s placating _yeahs_ only Twyla is an actual nice person so probably not. Wait. Stevie sits up from where she was half-slumped on the bar.

“Are you… You’re like David?”

“ _No_.” Alexis says emphatically, offended. “Ew.” She pulls at a section of her hair as her face goes from mutinous to confused. “Wait, how am I like David?”

Stevie hesitates, uncomfortable now. She probably shouldn’t have said anything. But it’s out there and when she looks at Twyla she gets a cheerful shrug and now they’re both waiting for Stevie say something so, fine. “Like. The whole, uh, liking the wine but not the label?”

Alexis narrows her eyes, still pulling at her hair. “Is this about the time I was dating that Australian wine executive who was using the company to run a money laundering scheme? Because I’ll tell you the same thing I told the ASIO: I didn’t know about the koalas.”

“That’s—No. What?” Stevie shakes her head. She doesn’t actually want to know, at all, the less she knows about the Roses’ strange wealthy person bizarro world the better. “I mean about you kissing girls.” She lowers her voice on the last two words, in case it’s something Alexis didn’t mean to be public knowledge.

“Oh!” Alexis laughs and pretends to slap Stevie’s arm, a light brush of her fingertips. “No silly. It’s a figure of speech.”

“Is it?” Stevie says.

“Uh, yeah. And I have, but just.” She flutters her hands around as if that’s supposed to mean anything. “I mean, everyone has, right Twy?”

“Definitely!” Twyla sips her drink through a tiny straw.

And that’s the problem with Twyla being so agreeable and earnest, how can anyone tell when she actually means something? Though even Stevie can’t tell what she herself actually means sometimes thanks to reflexive sarcasm and a thick fog of cynicism. “So, you have also kissed girls,” Stevie asks, clarifying, shifting on her lumpy stool to face Twyla because she can’t be the only one of the three of them—

“Yeah.” Twyla’s smile falters, as if she’s suddenly unsure of herself. “Though I found out later she was married to my third cousin twice removed. Oh! And there was that time in Reno. And that other time in Reno…”

Alexis gasps and fake hits Twyla, reaching across Stevie to do so. Then gives Stevie a long, assessing look. “There is zero chance you haven’t.” She announces.

“And what does _that_ mean?” It’s Stevie’s turn to be offended.

Alexis bugs her eyes out and starts to play with her hair again. “What?”

“What did you—“

“Hmm?” Alexis interrupts. “Hmm, what?”

Stevie doesn’t have the energy for it. “Never mind,” she mumbles and goes back to her drink. This is Alexis, who says nonsensical stuff all the time and Stevie shouldn’t give it another moment’s thought only… Only she is. A lot.

_DOES EVERYONE KISS GIRLS_ she texts David later, flopped facedown on her bed, going through the trouble to type it in all caps, one letter at a time. She is, possibly, a lot, maybe a bit drunk.

_Who is this?_ David texts back.

**Stevie:** _David._

**David:** _No see *I’m* David_

**Stevie:** _I hate you_

**David:** _I know_

Stevie drops her phone on the floor, frustrated but not sure why, and then David texts again. _Are you okay?_

**Stevie:** _Totally_

**Stevie:** _No_

**Stevie:** _I don’t know_

**David:** _Well that could not be more clear_

Little gray text bubbles appear and then disappear and then reappear and David adds, _Want me to come over?_   Stevie knows the hesitancy is because he’s with Patrick, like right at this very moment, and if she said yes she knows he would come over anyway because he’s a good friend and she loves him, actually, and all of that just makes her feels worse.

**Stevie:** _No. I’m drunk. Tired. I’ll just sleep. TTY tomorrow_

David asks if she’s sure and she says she is so she wiggles out of her jeans and flannel shirt and gets comfortable. She should brush her teeth but that’s a problem for Tomorrow Stevie. Tonight Stevie wants to sleep and not think about not kissing girls. Her phone pings with one last text.

**David:** _I’m not currently kissing any girls if that helps. Also if you’re freaking out then don’t. It’s okay. You’re okay._

She smiles a little, breathing deeply to release some of the strung-tight tension she’d been holding in her body. She does get up to brush her teeth. Tomorrow Stevie has enough to deal with.

In the light of day, Stevie isn’t sure why it was such a big deal to her. She shouldn’t be surprised at all that Alexis made out with girls for no real reason because it seems as though Alexis used to do a lot of things for no real reason. It’s Twyla she can’t seem to wrap her head around. Because she dated Mutt and other men, too, but no women as far as Stevie knows. But she doesn’t know Twyla that well, not really, so maybe Twyla is pan like David or something close and if so how did she figure that out in a place like Schitt’s Creek? Stevie stops by David’s room before clocking in.

“How did you know?”

David is on his bed when she lets herself in, dressed and on top of the made-up covers, scrolling his phone. He looks up at her with one eye squinted shit. “It’s too early for you to be vague.”

“It’s ten-thirty.”

“Exactly.”

Stevie rolls her eyes and moves to sit on David’s bed, pushing his legs aside to a undignified, _hey!_ “I mean, of course it was easy for you, in New York or wherever. But here. Living here, how would you even know if you… liked other wines? If you didn’t know that liking more than one type of wine was even an option?”

“Mmkay.” David swings both legs to the floor and sits up straight, depositing his phone on the nightstand and pursing his lips. “I know I came up with the whole wine metaphor but must we flog it to death?”

“Well maybe your metaphors are terrible,” Stevie says, but that’s not really the salient point here. The more she thinks about it the more she realizes that David probably isn’t the best person to talk to about this after all, because he’s known for a long time he said and can barely even remember not knowing he was into people of all sorts and types. She needs someone who didn’t know. To help her understand out how someone like Twyla would have known. “Patrick,” Stevie says and bolts for the door.

“Um, I was about to give you some _very_ sage advice and now you’ll never know. Stevie!” David’s voice follows her even after she’s closed the door. “I have other metaphors!”

**Stevie:** _Meet me for lunch?_

**Patrick:** _Tell David that if he’s too lazy to text me himself he can just call. It’s one button. One._

**Stevie:** _No I’m asking for me_

**Stevie:** _You don’t have to_

**Stevie:** _It’s fine_

It’s dumb, actually. Why does she even care? But while she waits and waits, her stomach twists into knots and she’s chewing on her lip and it’s just— She just needs to know. To settle it in her mind and then move on, like when she needed to know for sure that Mr. Rose would still be here to help her run the motel, like an itch in the back of her mind until she had it in writing.

**Patrick:** _1:00 okay?_

Patrick is already sitting at a booth when Stevie arrives at Cafe Tropical, his hands folded politely on the table in front of him. And sitting at the booth behind him, in his fluffy black sweater and oversized sunglasses, is David. Stevie slides a look over to him after she scoots in across from Patrick, which David completely ignores in favor of scrutinizing his menu.

“Sorry,” Patrick says. “He was hungry and didn’t want to wait for me bring something back, but he promised not to listen in.”

“Is that what the sunglasses are for?” Stevie says, sarcastic.

Patrick presses his lips against a smile. “Actually, yes.”

She rolls her eyes in justified annoyance, though she is a little mollified to know that David is here under the guise of being too hungry to wait but is actually here because he cares. Still. “I’m putting my lunch on his bill.” David makes a little huffing noise behind them. “And ordering the most expensive thing here which is…” She flips though the massive menu and finally comes up with, “The Salisbury steak platter. Yum.”

“Okay nobody actually likes Salisbury steak.” David drops his own menu, then realizing he fell into Stevie’s trap, begins looking around as if he’s completely bamboozled to find himself in the cafe. “I mean. Um.” He picks his menu back up and hides behind it.

Patrick, who looks amused and fond and like he’s desperately trying to arrive at a neutral expression, clears his throat. “So, what did you— Is everything alright?”

She’d thought about just blurting it out, getting it over with, but the longer she sits here the less she actually wants to talk about this. It’s not even a thing. She just made it into one by overthinking and she should have just let it go. She opens her mouth to lie, say it was something about Mrs. Rose that had her worried but everything is fine now, but then Twyla comes to their table before she gets a chance.

“Hi guys! What can I get you?”

Patrick asks about what comes on one of the specials—a seasonal salad—which gets him a long explanation of everything in the salad and where it came from and all of his options to add in to the salad, which means Stevie gets lost in thought for a bit. It’s just because she’s been on her mind a lot, really, that Stevie notices how nice Twyla’s smile is. How her hair has flecks of copper in it where the sun catches just right. The little dimples in her cheeks as she lists salad toppings.

“Stevie?” Twyla is looking at her. That’s nice. She has nice eyes. Twyla is holding a pencil to her ordering pad, eyebrows raised expectantly. Right.

“I’ll have—“ Stevie shakes her head. She hadn’t yet decided and David was right, no one actually likes Salisbury steak. “The same. Yeah.” She doesn’t really want a Festively Fun Summer Salad and whatever it involves, but it doesn’t matter. She’s not very hungry. Embarrassed at whatever _that_ was, Stevie pretends she needs her phone for something and avoids Patrick’s eyes. Unfortunately, she catches David’s. Sunglasses now off, he flicks his gaze minutely in the direction Twyla went off to, the looks back at Stevie and lifts one eyebrow. And just like that, without anyone talking her through it or having some crisis of sexuality right here at a vinyl booth in Cafe Tropical, Stevie gets it. It’s a shift, a slight tilt of her axis that means she needs a little time to find her center of balance again. Okay. She’s okay. She inclines her head. David gives a little half-smile.

“I’ve never um. I’ve never had that salad before.” Stevie fiddles with the silverware still wrapped in paper. “I guess I like the sandwiches I usually order so much that I never really considered it.”

“Well, it’s new…” Patrick says, not really getting it but getting that he’s supposed to be picking something up. Stevie’s head is down, but she can feel Patrick looking at her. The plastic on his seat creaks as he shifts, probably turning to look at David, then creaks again when he turns back. “I think, though, that it’s never too late to realize that you can like the salad, too?” His voice is uncertain, like he’s leading them both somewhere but has no idea of where they’re going, “Or—Or you can decide that you… don’t like the salad after all and that’s okay. Or that maybe you don’t like sandwiches as much as you thought because— because you didn’t even realize that the salad could taste so incredible.”

Stevie wrinkles her nose. “I don’t like this metaphor anymore.”

“I regretted the last part immediately.” Patrick smiles, his eyes once again dancing with amusement. “Was that— Was I anywhere close?”

“Yes. Thank you.”

“I thought it was perfect,” David pipes up, craning around his table in order to be heard better. “ _Some people_ just can’t appreciate a well-crafted turn of phrase.”

“I thought you weren’t listening David,” Patrick says.

“Still time to change my order David,” Stevie adds.

He huffs. Patrick smiles sweetly. And Stevie feels just a little more balanced.


End file.
